


Look me in the Eye

by AlbieGeorge



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: M/M, Pining, and woakes's worried boundary face which he wears for a lot of this fic, basically a short love letter to my anxiety and to the south bank, by day they play cricket, by night they fight crime, london in the rain, these two are such an otp for me, titch and woakes forever, titch to the rescue, woakes is feeling wary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 07:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17018595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlbieGeorge/pseuds/AlbieGeorge
Summary: For the wonderful celebel, for the set of prompts: London, pining, flights and stumps.Set just prior to the tests in the 2013/14 Lions tour of Sri Lanka, so just after Christmas 2013.  Woakesy did indeed captain the Lions (including Titch) on that tour, but the details of how he found out and his feelings about it are entirely from my head.





	Look me in the Eye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [celebel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celebel/gifts).



The packed tube train pulled into Waterloo, practically groaning with grumbling passengers of every age, colour and persuasion.  The collective disgruntlement was almost audible as the brakes were applied a touch too readily, and Chris felt a twinge of unwelcome overfamiliarity as a man in a puffa jacket pressed hard against him, the tinny jangle from his headphones quieting suddenly as one song ended and another started up.  In a blur of muttered apologies and squeezes past, Chris extracted himself from the train, pink-cheeked and frazzled from the stuffy carriage and the bustle of people who all seemed to know where they were going.

He found his way into the main station, picking his way carefully through the milling throngs of sales shoppers and families heading to the German markets on the South Bank, hanging on hopefully in the couple of weeks after Christmas by staving off the creeping greyness of January with a paper cup of mulled wine and bewildered small talk about how fast time seems to go these days.  Chris knew the feeling well.  It seemed just a moment ago that he got the call up for the Lions, and now here he was, passing an anxious day in London before meeting up with the lads to fly out to Sri Lanka tomorrow.

Pulling his jacket around him more tightly and bobbing his nose down into the folds of a soft claret and blue scarf that had been a gift from his mum, Chris wondered why he’d agreed to meet Titch so early.  He’d tossed and turned the last few nights, since being told unexpectedly that he’d be captaining the Lions on tour.  He’d been pleased at first, as various members of his family clapped him so hard on the back he’d stumbled forward embarrassingly, but then the reality of having to give the orders rather than follow them set in, and he’d woken up bathed in sweat a couple more times in the last few nights that he wanted to admit to.  He had never doubted his cricketing ability, but the sudden stark focus on his leadership credentials had images replaying behind his eyelids of looking round to see his stumps clattered behind him, of being clouted for six back over his head, of having to drop himself, of being told on the plane it had all been a wind-up because of course it had.

He felt his phone buzz as he squinted into the thin grey sunlight of the midwinter morning and carefully descended the worn stone steps of Waterloo station, bright lights of the IMAX looming up through the drizzle.

_I’m here!  Freezing my nuts off, hurry up! x_

Chris smiled at the message.  Titch always knew how to cheer him up.  Even with the bitter cold of an early January afternoon, even with squads of tourists, and trying to figure out if he needed eastbound or westbound while Londoners tutted around him, even with the rising anxiety of a reluctant captain, Titch would find a way.  Suddenly he’d feel that pensive, far-off look lifting, his eyebrows unknotting from their natural pattern of concern as a smile blossomed across his face or a laugh bubbled up.  Chris tried to ignore the pleasant ache in his chest as he thought of his diminutive buddy hopping from one foot to the other in the cold, and took a deep breath of cold air as the insistent beeping of the green man pierced his thought bubble and shepherded him across the road.

He plunged his hands into his pockets as he walked through a covered walkway past neon signs and earnest buskers and took a left towards City Hall, his destination rising above the grand white buildings, rendered pale grey by relentless time and drizzle.  Chris frowned, thoughtfully.  He had worked hard to convince himself that his closeness with James wasn’t turning into a crush, that he didn’t spend quiet moments wondering what it would be like if Titch took his hand in a situation other than excitedly pulling him towards a new adventure or something he’d found that would make Chris smile.  He pretended painstakingly that he hadn't thought of what it would be like to feel their fingers intertwine, James's breath on his cheek and hands on his body, his own breath hitching as…

Chris’s pocket buzzed again and he started uncomfortably, shaking the train of thought from his head as he peered at his phone, spots of rain settling here and there on the screen.

_I’m getting us coffee, otherwise I’ll die of exposure.  Americano, touch of milk, no sugar?_

Chris replied to his perfectly remembered order with a thumbs up emoji and followed Titch’s terrible taste in coffee to a Starbucks near the London Eye, willing his heart to stop thumping as if it was about to leave his chest.

Soon, his diminutive friend’s infectious enthusiasm had him bustling back out of the overheated coffee shop and ignoring the fact that they had to queue for tickets in the cold as they chatted about the upcoming series and sipped at their drinks, and soon they were looking down on the iconic sights of London through the window of a giant Ferris wheel pod.  Titch was pointing things out with a huge smile on his face.

“You’ve been on the London Eye before though…”  Chris frowned.  “You’ve been on the London Eye with _me_ before.” 

Titch smiled.

“Yep.  I just like looking at things from high up.”

He paused, looking for the right words.  “It makes me feel…”

Chris couldn’t help but let a grin spread across his face.  Titch frowned and punched his arm playfully.

“Don’t say ‘tall’, Christopher.”

Chris laughed.  Titch went back to thinking.  There was a long pause before he spoke.

“It makes me feel calm.  I think about all the people down there, going about their days and doing things that are much more important than what I'm doing, and it puts my worries into perspective.”

“You have worries?” Chris asked, turning to Titch.  He couldn’t believe Titch ever worried about anything.  In the years since he met him, playing age-group cricket on some terrible pitch somewhere near Leicester, he’d only seen those pale blue eyes radiate enthusiasm.  And mischief.  And warmth.

“Not often.” Titch said simply, “I’m not really much of a worrier.”  He plunged his hands into his pockets and shrugged before continuing. “But you’ve been a bit quiet since you found out you’d be captaining on tour, and I thought you might need to feel…” he trailed off slightly, and Chris thought he could detect the slightest hint of uncertainty in his confident friend’s features. “I thought you might need a moment to feel calm.  Before we go.”

Chris closed his eyes and let out a long breath, that warm squeezing feeling in his chest returning to colour his cheeks with an intense but not unpleasant glow.  He held onto the railing in front of him then looked down at his features made fuzzy and distorted by the curved brushed steel.

“Thanks, mate.” he said quietly, opening his eyes to find James looking at him with that confident, inquisitive look he so often wore.  Chris wondered if the vague sense of a question in Titch’s face was just wishful thinking.  He bit his lip and swallowed that thought, but when Titch nudged his arm 30 seconds later and pointed out a modern building that looked for all the world like an old man’s face, Chris found that his smile reached his eyes for the first time in days.


End file.
